


The Lies That They Gave You

by Gryph



Category: Planet of the Apes (TV)
Genre: Community: smallfandombang, F/M, Homecoming, Not What It Looks Like, Small Fandom Big Bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-04-24
Packaged: 2018-01-18 00:15:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1407871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gryph/pseuds/Gryph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the astronauts and Galen find a way to return to Earth of the past, things don't go quite the way they had hoped. And things are not quite what they seem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [ART - The Lies That They Gave You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1387078) by [Tarlan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan). 



> Many thanks to fabulous [Tarlan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan) for the beautiful art pieces. All art belongs to [Tarlan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan) and is used here with the permission of the artist.
> 
> Thanks also to my faithful beta reader [Kassidy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Kassidy) for her invaluable input.

[ **** ](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/tarlanx/6659521/541337/541337_original.jpg)

**Chapter 1**

_The best lies contain within them nuggets of truth._

"Colonel Virdon, they are ready for you."

Lieutenant Colonel Alan Virdon unfolded himself from the chair and followed the aide to the conference room. The fabric of his blue flight suite, he noticed, remained unwrinkled despite the fact that he'd been sitting in the same position for most of the last hour. The two enigmatic looking men in dark suits who stood on either side of the big wooden doors pulled them open to admit him. As he passed by, he noticed the shoulder holsters they each wore under their jackets.

The large table dominating the conference room was surrounded by more than a dozen men and women in a variety of military uniforms and civilian clothing. Virdon took a position at the end of the table and stood at attention. Military discipline dictated that he didn't speak or move until given leave by one of the superior officers in the room, but following those protocols after the circumstances of the last two years took an effort. He had so many pressing questions he just wanted to blurt out—about his family, about his companions, not to mention the larger picture of everything that had transpired while he'd been gone.

"Colonel Virdon, take a seat," one of the men in a dark blue dress uniform and four stars on each shoulder commanded.

Virdon pulled out the chair in front of him and settled into it. He leaned forward, splaying his hands out palms down on the smooth wooden table in a conscious effort not to drum his fingers.

"I'm sure you have many questions, Colonel—" the General began.

Virdon couldn't contain himself anymore. "Yes, Sir. My family—"

General William Shelton cut him off with a sympathetic look. "Have been notified of your arrival and are en route here."

"What about Burke and Galen, Sir? Are they all right?"

"Major Burke and the chimpanzee Galen are being treated to all the same amenities that you are, Colonel. They are being given medical care and then debriefed. You'll be able to see them soon as well." Shelton smiled reassuringly. "You are heroes, not prisoners. But you've been through a tremendous ordeal, and we want to ease the shock of your return."

Virdon frowned. “General, it's obvious that this isn't the year we left Earth. But no one has been willing to tell me exactly how long we've been gone.” The unasked question hung in the air, making most of the dignitaries shift uncomfortably.

General Shelton was no exception. But he held Virdon's gaze with a steady stare. “The date is April 13, 2012, Colonel. You've been gone thirty-two years.”

******

Major Peter Burke cut a slice of the steak, swiped it through some of the extra juice on the plate, and popped it into his mouth. He rolled his eyes in pure pleasure as the medium-rare meat melted on his tongue. He washed it down with a long draught of beer, then leaned back in the chair with a sigh and rubbed his stomach. As much as he enjoyed the return to amenities he’d missed—good food, a hot shower, a soft bed not the least among them—he was starting to chafe under the forced seclusion from his friends and the rest of the world.

It had been two days since they'd landed back on Earth. Two days since he'd been hustled into isolation, away from Virdon and Galen. Although he was pretty sure he was in some locked down military base, he wasn't sure which one. So far, they'd treated him fine, but everything was done by the book for a military debriefing. He'd been poked and prodded by the medical people, asked a million questions about the fate of their mission and the time they’d been gone. Except a _lot_ more time had passed on Earth than the two years they had experienced since the start of their mission.

Twenty-twelve. Thirty-two years. _Christ._

He'd missed thirty-two years of his life here on Earth. Everyone he'd ever known, ever cared about was either dead or so old that they probably didn't even remember him anymore. His mother was dead. One sister, who’d been six years older than him, was dead. His oldest sister, ten years older than him, was in a nursing home suffering from advanced Alzheimer's.

On the other hand, he'd never been particularly close to his family once he'd entered the space program. They'd mourned him in their own time and moved on, as had the couple or three women he'd been seeing on a semi-regular basis before the mission. Even the loss of his friends and colleagues left him feeling oddly numb. It wasn't that he didn't care, but a part of him couldn't help thinking that at least he was lucky to have avoided any serious attachments.

 _Virdon_ , he thought, _must be flipping out._ Unlike him, Virdon had a family, a wife and son. How in the world would he ever be able to step back into their lives after thirty-two years had passed?

A knock at the door intruded on his thoughts. “Come!” he called.

The door opened to admit a woman in a dark business suit. Her blonde hair was pulled into a tight bun, giving her an air of austerity that made it easy to overlook that she was also young—Burke guessed she was about his age—and quite attractive. Burke felt a wave of _déjà vu_ , that he had met this woman somewhere before, and the half-sensed memory evoked warm affection. He stood as she approached the other side of the table.

“Major Burke,” she began, a smile blooming as she stuck out a hand, “I’m Allison Hayes.” Burke quickly wiped his hand on his jumpsuit before wrapping it around hers. The grip she returned was firm, self-assured. “May I sit so we can talk? I’m not interrupting your lunch, am I?”

Burke returned her smile and waved a hand at the empty chair. He pushed the plate away. “Nah, I was finished. But I can only talk to you if you call me Pete.” _At least this one is pretty,_ he thought, turning on the charm without even thinking about it. He’d been interviewed so many times over the last two days, but this was the first interrogator who wasn’t in a military uniform. And it had been so very long since he'd seen a pretty girl who had even a chance of being his intellectual equal. He felt something flutter deep in his gut.

Hayes inclined her head as she pulled out a chair and sat. “All right, Pete.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a computer tablet. Burke had seen all the technicians and military personnel carrying them; he couldn't help wondering what other technological marvels that'd been considered science fiction in his time were now commonplace. “I’m going to record this conversation, if that’s all right with you.” At his nod of assent, she tapped the screen of the tablet.

“Look, Ms. Hayes—”

“Allison,” she interrupted with an amused look.

He flashed another grin. “Allison. I’d really like to get a few answers about where I am and when I can see my friends.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in the chair.

Pushing the tablet off to one side, she folded her hands on the table. “You are in a secure military facility outside of Langley, Virginia.” She pursed her lips in thought. “The rest is a little more complicated. You claim that you spent the last two years stranded in Earth's future—over a thousand years from now. Surely you can understand the concern over what would happen if the knowledge of that future were to reach the public.”

Burke's chair scraped as he pushed it back and stood. He began pacing around the room, then turned back to her with a stormy expression. “So what happens now? You just keep us here forever? Locked away?”

“Of course not,” Hayes replied. She stood as well, then reached down and touched the computer tablet again, shutting it off. “You want to get out of here for a while?” she asked, tilting her head with a mischievous half-smile.

Burke's eyes narrowed. “And go where?”

“Outside.” She shrugged. “I can't take you off the base. Not yet,” she added hastily. “But they've got some nice grounds here. We can go for a walk.”

He raised a brow, looking her up and down pointedly. “You always go for walks in your government monkey suit?”

She smiled, a disarming expression that stirred something in Burke that had been quiescent for a long time. “I have some jogging clothes in my office. It's not far from here.” She jerked her chin toward the door. “You got anything better to do?” Picking up her computer tablet, she tucked in back in her bag and slung it on her shoulder.

As they walked from his isolation room to her office, Hayes filled the time telling him about some of the advances of the last three decades. Not just cell phones and miniature computers, but also transportation, medicine, space colonization, and so much more. Inside her office, he waited while she ducked into her bathroom to change, fascinated by the images of space that decorated the walls, and curious about the apparent lack of personal items. No pictures on the desk, no diplomas on the walls. He turned to ask her about that when he heard the bathroom door reopen, but his voice caught in his throat as she emerged. The tight black leggings and day-glo orange top accentuated her figure, and the ponytail of her blonde hair softened the severe look from earlier.

“Better?” she asked playfully.

Burke knew he was staring and cleared his throat as he looked away. “Yeah, that'll work.” The lack of heels took a couple inches off her height, and the top of her head only came up to his chin.

She led him through the maze of corridors, a simple flash of the badge around her neck getting them past three different sets of guards without any question. When she pushed open a door to the outside, Burke squinted and raised a hand to shield his eyes from the brilliant sunlight. The warm air enveloped him, along with the scent of cut grass and sweet flowers. A gravel footpath stretched away from them, and with a wordless exchange, they just started walking.

Burke shoved his hands in the pockets of his jumpsuit. After two years of constant treks up and down endless hills, living hard and rough off the land, he didn't think he'd ever yearn to be outdoors again. But weeks of being cooped up, first on the ship and then in isolation, left him relieved to be somewhere that wasn't enclosed by metal or concrete. Hayes kept pace with him, but gave him a quiet companionship that didn't intrude on the illusion of freedom.

After they’d walked far enough down a slight slope that the buildings behind them were no longer visible, she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. “There’s a duck pond over there.” She pointed farther down the hill. “We can sit and just relax for a while.”

They sat on the bank of the pond, close enough that their shoulders brushed. Her proximity was overwhelming. Burke pulled his lanky legs up and wrapped his arms around them to hide his discomfort. “So what exactly do you do for the government, Allison?” he asked quietly.

Hayes stretched her legs out and leaned back on her hands as she considered her answer. “Well, I guess you could say I gather information.”

Burke snorted. He knew what that meant. “And what information do you want to gather from me?” He looked at her with a raised brow, torn between annoyance and amusement that the government sent a spook to interview him.

“Only what you want to tell me, Pete,” she reassured him with a gentling expression. “We’d like to know more about this civilization of apes that had control in the future. The more we understand, the better chance we have of preventing that from happening.”

“Believe me, I’m all for that.” He frowned as unpleasant memories of his time there surfaced. He stared unfocussed into the distance, and his voice dropped to a bitter whisper. Despite the warm air, he shivered. “Hell is probably worse, but not by much.”

Hayes leaned forward, copying Burke’s posture, so she could see his face as he spoke. “Tell me about it?” she asked just as quietly. “I... I’ve seen the report on your most recent physical.” The catalog of scars from injuries and abuse at the hands of the apes was now part of his permanent file.

He shrugged. “Well, then you pretty much know the worst of it. Human life is... was of very little value. They could be shot for even the most minor offense, or sometimes for no reason at all. Otherwise, we... they weren’t much above slaves and were treated—and punished—that way.” He cleared his throat turned to squint at her. “Look, I really don’t want to talk about this. I understand we have to be debriefed and all, but can’t we cover something else?”

She smiled as she reached over to squeeze his leg reassuringly. Then she let it linger there. “All right. How about the ape government. Who’s in charge?”

“That depends on who you ask. The government is a council of apes, mostly orangutans and chimpanzees. But the head of the military is a gorilla named Urko, and he’d be more than happy to tell you that he should be in charge of things.” His voice grew tight and strained again, as he remembered some of his more unpleasant encounters with Urko—being brutally interrogated, being trapped in an underground subway station, looking down the barrel of Urko’s gun. He tried to shake the memories; that was all past now that they were home, safe. “The head orangutan was named Zaius.”

“And how much firepower did this Urko and the military have?”

Burke shrugged again. “I don’t know for sure. They had rifles, and Urko exploded a grenade that he swiped from Zaius. I know they had explosives, but I don’t know how much or where it came from.” He turned toward Hayes with narrowed eyes. “Why would any of that matter, anyway? It’s not like you are going to go back there and pick a fight with them.”

Hayes pursed her lips, waving her hand dismissively. “Just trying to be thorough. You never know what might be important.” She pushed up onto her knees and turned around so that she was sitting next to him but facing him, their hips pressed together. Burke startled, breaking his darkening mood. She smiled again, coquettishly. “Listen, Pete, I have a confession to make.” When he raised an eyebrow, she continued, leaning closer, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. “I asked for this assignment because I wanted to get to know you. I’m a giant geek for the history of the space program, and I grew up reading stories all about the three astronauts lost on your mission.”

Burke smirked, huffing a low chuckle. “Really. Huh.”

“Yeah, really.” She edged even closer until their faces were only inches apart. “A chance to meet the famous Pete Burke... well, that was something I couldn’t pass up.” She brought her arms up and draped them over his shoulders, her expression an open question. He swallowed hard trying to separate his body’s enthusiastic response from his jumbled emotions. There was no doubt he was interested, but it _had_ been a long time. Back in the days before the mission, he’d known women who were drawn to the glamor of his profession and rarely hesitated to let that work to his advantage. Things had changed a lot since then. He’d changed. But the temptation to seek a little comfort after the ordeal of the last two years was strong. After a brief internal struggle, he wrapped his hands around her waist.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint.”

They both closed the remaining distance, entering the kiss tentatively at first, then deepened it as they both surrendered to their desires. When it broke, Hayes pressed on his shoulders, encouraging him to lie back in the thick grass as she swung a leg over until she was straddling him.

Burke’s eyes widened, even as his hands roamed freely over her body. “Won’t someone see us here?” Much as the _al fresco_ atmosphere excited him, he also didn’t want to have spectators.

Hayes leaned over him. “Nah. No one comes outside. We won’t be disturbed.”

And they weren’t.

******

“Computer, display images from Earth history.” Galen watched the screen projected on the wall of his quarters in anticipation.

A mechanized voice responded, “Please specify time period.”

The chimp titled his head quizzically, taken aback by the request. The history of his people began with the Sacred Scrolls, with the words set down by the Lawgiver. He shrugged. “Start at the beginning.”

A dark field filled the screen, broken by a myriad of tiny points of light, a glowing disk dominating the foreground.

Galen’s brow creased in confusion. “Computer, can you provide narration for these images?”

“Approximately four point five billion years ago, the Earth formed from the accretion of the solar nebula. Volcanic outgassing probably created the primordial atmosphere, but it contained almost no oxygen and would have been toxic to humans and most modern life. Much of the Earth was molten—”

“Stop, stop, stop.” Galen rolled his eyes. “Computer, show the beginning of the history of life on Earth.”

The image changed to a hellish landscape of gaseous clouds illuminated by enormous bolts of lightning, over craggy outcroppings of rocks. “The earliest life on Earth existed at least three point five billion years ago, during the Eoarchean Era when sufficient crust had solidified following the molten Hadean Eon. The earliest actual signs of life on Earth known to scientists are the complete fossils of a microbial mat associated with sandstone in western Australia, estimated to be three point four eight billion years old—”

“Oh, good grief!” Galen interrupted again. He heaved a frustrated sigh. “Computer.” He paused, a new strategy forming in his head. “Computer, the year is two-thousand twelve, correct?”

“Correct, that is the year in the Common Era.”

Galen nodded and clapped his hands together in delight. Now he was getting somewhere! “Computer, display images of history from the first year in the Common Era.”

“The largest government in the first year of the Common Era was the Roman Empire, which under the rule of Augustus stretched around the Mediterranean in Europe, Africa, and Asia. The Empire fostered a period of unprecedented stability and prosperity known as the _Pax Romana_ or Roman Peace.” On the screen, majestic buildings of stone lined streets where soldiers in armor and colorful cloaks marched in formation.

 _Strange_ , Galen thought. These humans looked awfully advanced, even at the beginning of their history. More advanced, in many ways, than his Ape ancestors had been. And this was over two-thousand years ago in Man’s history.

At a knock on the door, Galen told the computer to halt. “Come in,” he called, moving slowly toward the door. When it opened to two familiar human faces, his slow advance turned into a rush. “My friends!” He threw his arms around both men. “Oh, Alan, Pete, I'm so glad to see you both!”

Burke pounded him on the back. “Good to see you, too, pal!”

“How are they treating you?” Virdon asked when they separated.

“Fine. Fine! I am learning all about your time, your history. And this place,” he motioned his hands around the room, “this place is amazing. I know you’d told me about how it was, but I found it hard to believe,” he finished a little sheepishly. He moved toward one of the upholstered chairs and waved the men to sit as well. “They have been asking me a _lot_ of questions.”

“It’s okay, Galen,” Virdon reassured him. “We’ve all been being debriefed. It’s standard procedure.”

“I’d like to see more of your world. Are we going to be able to leave here soon?”

Burke looked at Virdon with a raised brow. He wondered the same thing.

Virdon shrugged, swaying his head back and forth. “Soon. But the government can’t just turn a talking ape loose on the world. You are going to be introduced in a press conference, and then you’ll be allowed to leave here, with supervision. You are going to need to have an escort for your protection.”

Galen frowned. “Protection? What do I need protection from, Alan?”

Burke chimed in. “Not all humans are as... accepting as we are. Your very existence is going to turn a lot of beliefs topsy-turvy. Folks might not like that.”

“Yes, distrust of differences is not limited to my kind, I see.” Mischief chased away the sadness a moment later. “I can’t expect Humans to be better than Apes on that count, I suppose.”

Burke and Virdon both chuckled. “But I’ll probably stick around here with you,” Burke said. “Unlike Alan, I don’t have any family left to go looking for. Besides,” a blush began to color his cheeks, “there’s this woman who works here I’d like to get to know better. She and I kinda hit it off.” He let the thought trail off suggestively.

Virdon rolled his eyes, belied by the smile that twitched on his lips. “The ol’ Burke charm still works just fine, huh?” His expression sobered. “Sally and Chris will be here in a couple of hours.”

Galen reached over and squeezed Virdon's hand. “You're going to see your family again? That's wonderful.”

“Yeah.” Virdon's voice held a touch of sadness.

Burke wanted to lighten the mood. “Well, first thing we gotta do is get some new threads, Galen.” He plucked at the fabric of his jumpsuit, which matched what Galen wore. “These flight suits are pretty comfortable for lounging around, but they have no style. And blue is definitely not your color.”

“Threads?” Galen’s brow furrowed. “What would I do with thread? Do I have to sew my own clothing here?”

The two men chuckled good-naturedly. “Nah, we’ll go shopping for clothes, Galen,” Burke said. “I’ll even spring for them. I haven’t calculated exactly how much thirty-two years of back pay with interest would be, but I’m pretty sure I’m a wealthy man.” He leaned back, raising his arms to put his hands behind his head. “I think there is a Porsche nine-eleven out there somewhere with my name on it.” His eyes grew wide with excitement. “Hey, do they have flying cars yet?”

******

_“They are accepting the program.” A question phrased as a statement._

_“Yes. Our operative has already started gathering information.”_

_“The time period was a good call. Unfamiliar enough that any inconsistencies will be overlooked. But close enough to their own time that they will feel comfortable.” Pause. “I’ll see that you are commended.”_

_“Thank you, sir.” A pregnant silence._

_“What?”_

_“I’m concerned about embedding the operative so deeply into the storyline, into their lives. It may cause... dissonance.”_

_“It was decided it was necessary for trust to form. I’m confident in our methods.”_

_“Of course, sir.”_

_“Move on to the next phase.”_

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Of all the words of mice and men, the saddest are, "It might have been.”_

 

Virdon paced the room, unable to sit still. Forcing himself to stop and take some deep breaths, he moved to the sideboard, past the carafe of coffee, to a metal pitcher covered with condensation. He flipped the paper cover off one of the heavy-bottomed glasses and poured it full of ice water. His hand shook as he raised the glass to his lips, but after gulping down half of it, he felt a little calmer.

Thirty-two years. _Thirty-two years_. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. From his perspective, only two years had passed, most of that stranded in the future version of Earth that still haunted his nightmares. When he’d learned that _that_ reality was 3085, more than a thousand years after he’d left Earth on a sunny day on Cape Canaveral, he'd imagined his family living out the rest of their lives without him and bitterly mourned that lost time. But he'd also vowed to return to them so that his family would not pass the remainder of their days wondering what became of him.

When he dreamed of the day he was reunited with his wife Sally and his son Chris, they were still the way he'd left them. As time passed for him, his imagination aged them the same amount. Maybe he wouldn't return to them the day after he'd left on the mission, or even by the original six months, but within a year, two years tops, of their time. Chris would still be the little boy overjoyed at his father's homecoming, snatched into a tight hug, spun off his feet and deposited on Alan's shoulders. Sally would still be young and beautiful, and he could watch the melancholia melt from her smile when they embraced.

Instead, his wife—assuming she _was_ still his wife and had not remarried—was an old woman of almost seventy. And his son... his son was a grown man, the same age he was.

Virdon’s eyes stung, but he scrubbed them with a shaky hand and took another swallow of water.

At least they were _alive_ , and he could be part of the rest of their lives.

The door to the conference room rattled. Virdon quickly put the glass on the table, wincing at the heavy thud when it hit harder than he'd intended. His heart thudded just as hard in his chest.

The door slowly opened. A tall, stocky man entered and closed the door quickly behind him, hanging onto the knob with one hand behind his back as he leaned against the door. His blond hair was trimmed short, as was his beard. But the shape of the face was familiar.

“Alan?” The baritone voice was tentative, heavy with emotion.

Virdon’s world tilted off its axis, the room retreating into an unfocused background as his vision narrowed to the man before him. “Chris?”

Chris Virdon’s throat worked, his jaw trembled. Thirty years melted away, and the man who was taller and broader in the shoulders and chest than Alan suddenly became a young boy who missed his father. “Dad—,” his voice broke, and he strode forward to pull Alan into a fierce hug. “Dad,” he said again, his voice muffled into Alan’s neck, “Oh my god, Dad. I can’t believe it’s you. I can’t believe you’re home.”

Alan just held onto his son as the minutes stretched by, afraid that he would disappear if he let go. When they pulled apart, Alan wrapped a hand around the back of his son's neck. “ _I_ can't believe you're taller than me!” he exclaimed, pulling smiles from both of them, but his was short-lived. “God, Chris, I... I missed so much. I want to hear everything. But first, where's your mom? Where's Sally?” His eyes pinched with worry. “Is she... she's okay, right?”

Chris stepped back and blew out a deep breath. “Yeah, she's fine, she's waiting outside.” His eyes dropped, and he scuffed his foot just like the ten-year-old boy Alan remembered. “It's just that she's—”

Alan's heart sank. “She's remarried, isn't she?”

Chris jerked back. “What? No! No, it's not that.” He grabbed both Alan's arms. “Look, Alan, Mom's... she's almost seventy. She thinks she's too old... that you'll only see an old woman, and not your wife.” He shook his head. “She never gave up on you, even after NASA declared you dead. She said you’d be back some day, because you had to see...”

“See what?”

“I should let Mom tell you.”

Alan looked past Chris, at the door. “I want to see her so much, Chris. I don’t care how old—” his voice broke again, and he struggled to get the words out. “I love her. She’ll always be my wife, for as long as she’ll have me. Please convince her to come in, would you?”

Chris nodded and, with a final reassuring squeeze of Alan’s arm, left. Alan gripped the back of a chair to quell the shaking of his hands and to steady himself as the room spun. A trickle of sweat ran down his back. _Sally._ He was finally going to see his Sally.

Except she wasn’t really _his_ Sally anymore. The concerns that Chris had aired weighed on his mind. Would he really be able to think of this old woman as his wife? All he knew was that his heart swelled at the thought that in a few moments, they would be reunited.

The door swung open again, and she was there, peering shyly into the room, hovering on the threshold.

Tears welled in Alan’s eyes, and the ache that had settled in the pit of his stomach released its hold. He gulped lungfuls of air to ease the tightness in his chest. “Sally.” He barely got the name out.

Sally Virdon’s face lit up. “Oh, Alan!”

They came together in a rush, clinging to each other, repeating the other’s name over and over.

Sally pulled away first but still held on her husband. “Alan, I have something important to tell you. Something I didn’t know about when you left.”

Confusion blossomed on his face. “What is it, Sal?” But he was distracted by trying to drink in the sight of her, to stroke her hair, now snowy instead of pale blonde.

Sally turned slightly and pulled forward the unnoticed woman who had trailed in behind her. Virdon did a double take when he got a good look at her face. She was young, younger than Chris, but had the same flaxen hair he remembered on Sally. In fact, her entire countenance was eerily similar to a younger version of his wife.

“Alan, this is Allison. She’s... she’s our daughter.” Sally’s uncertain smile turned quickly to concern as Alan staggered backward only to be held up by the strong arms of his son. Chris helped him into a chair.

“Daughter? When? How?” he sputtered.

Sally laughed. “My memory is thirty years older than yours, but surely you remember the night after the White House reception. You know, before you went into quarantine for the mission?”

Virdon blinked a few times. Their last night together had been filled with desperate passion, an attempt to make up for a seven-month absence. “But after Chris, the doctors said—”

“I know what they said. Obviously they were wrong. She’s our miracle, Alan.” Sally reached over and squeezed Allison’s hand. “She’s the reason I knew you would come home some day.”

“Mom,” Allison drawled, the tone complaining. She pulled over another chair and sat in front of Virdon. “Hi, Alan. Dad.” She paused, clearly uncomfortable. “Sorry, that’s going to take a little getting used to.”

“I’ll agree with that!” Virdon exclaimed. He took a calming breath. “Allison.” He rolled the name on his tongue. “I have a daughter.” He looked up at Sally with a wide-eyed expression then tilted his head to the side with a smile. “We have a daughter. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

******

“Pete?” Virdon knocked on the door frame of the lounge where Burke and Galen were watching television. Burke looked up from trying to explain situation comedies to Galen.

“Hey, Alan, how did things go?”

“See for yourself. Sally and Chris wanted to say hello.” He stepped to the side and ushered his family into the room.

Burke approached Sally Virdon carefully, like he was afraid he was going to break her if he rushed her. “Sally?” he asked with a smile.

“Hey, Pete,” she exclaimed, pulling him into a hug. Her voice was choked with emotion. “Welcome home.”

His eyes grew wide when he spotted Chris over her shoulder. Sally relinquished her hold, only for him to be enveloped by the larger man. “Damn, Chris, you got big!”

“Thanks, Uncle Pete. Thanks for bringing Dad home,” he spoke softly in Burke’s ear while he thumped him on the back.

The final member of Virdon’s family made Burke’s brow furrow. “What are you doing here, Allison?”

“This is my daughter, Pete.” Virdon sounded as confused as Burke felt.

“Daughter?” His expression darkened as he turned toward her. “So, Allison _Virdon_? That’s not what you told me.”

“Mom’s maiden name is Hayes. It’s not easy working for the government while being the daughter of one of NASA’s infamous lost astronauts.”

“You could have told me!”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Virdon interrupted. “ _This_ is the woman you were talking about putting the moves on? _My daughter?_ ” His voice rose in volume, as the color rose high in his cheeks.

“Well, she didn’t bother to _tell_ me she was your daughter!” Burke threw back at him, his posture turning defensive.

“And if she had, would you have kept it in your pants?”

Allison stepped between them, putting hands on both their chests. “Knock it off, both of you!” She turned toward Virdon. “Alan, I may be your daughter, but I’m not a little girl. I’m thirty-one, the same age as Pete. I know you need time to adjust to the idea, but don’t start out on the wrong foot.” She rounded on Burke next. “And can you imagine your reaction if I had told you that my father was your best friend? Besides, _you_ weren’t putting the moves on _me_ ,” she finished smugly. “I grew up hearing all about you, Peter Burke,” she glanced sideways at her mother, who rolled her eyes, “and how you could charm the socks off of everyone. Can you blame me for wanting to get to know you better?”

A cough broke up the tableau. Galen shuffled toward them.

“You must be Galen,” Allison stuck her hand forward, pointedly ignoring the two men. “I’m Allison. Nice to finally meet you.”

Galen clasped her hand between his fingers, like he wasn't sure what to do with it once he had ahold of it. “Allison. I didn't know Alan had a daughter.”

She chuckled. “Neither did he. I was an 'oops.' Mom didn't even know she was pregnant when he left on the mission.” She gestured to the rest of her family behind her. “Galen, this is my mother, Sally Virdon. And the big burly guy is my brother, Chris.”

Each of them shook Galen's hand in turn. Chris stared at Galen, an enormous grin on his face. After a moment, he realized he was staring and dropped his eyes with a nervous laugh. “Sorry, Galen. It's just so fascinating to find out about another civilization developing from the ruins of ours. I'm a cultural anthropologist, and the chance to find out about a non-human culture is just... it's just amazing,” he rambled. “I'd love to pick your brain sometime about it all.”

A horrified look crossed Galen's face. “Pick my brain? Is that like the brainwashing that Pete told me about?”

Burke and Virdon exchanged a knowing look, and both men began to smile. The tension was broken for the time being, but Burke had a feeling that he and Virdon were going to have some long, uncomfortable talks in their future.

******

Burke twitched in his sleep, floating in that hazy void where, even though he knew he was dreaming, the circumstances felt viscerally real. He, Virdon, and Galen were running from a gorilla patrol, an all too common occurrence during their time in the future. Burke could feel the burning of his leg muscles, the pain in his side as his chest heaved, the sting as branches and brambles slapped and snatched at his face and hands. He could smell the stench of his own unwashed body made more pungent by fresh sweat, the muskiness of Galen trotting upwind. He could hear the beating of the horses' hooves and the grunting yells of the pursuing soldiers. In his bed in 2012, his body jumped and jerked as adrenalin surged through him.

In the dream, Virdon whistled loudly and pointed toward a vine-covered cliff. Then he disappeared when he pulled apart some of the foliage and slipped between the thick mat. Burke angled toward the wall, Galen right next to him. He yanked a handful of branches aside to find an empty space behind them instead of solid rock. He held the plants open while Galen ducked past, then stepped within and rearranged the leaves from the inside to hide the disturbance.

The filtered sunlight penetrated enough for them to see that the cave extended deeper, disappearing into inky gloom. With a jerk of Virdon's head, the three of them trotted further back, hoping that the darkness would hide them should the gorillas discover the secret cavern. They listened for long minutes, holding themselves still and silent, until the sound of the hoofbeats drew nearer and then faded. Once they breathed a collective sigh of relief, they began exploring the cave.

When Virdon discovered a rusted metal door set in the wall, Burke assumed they'd stumbled onto another ancient bomb shelter, like the one Farrow had hidden them in after the crash. But when they opened the door, a bright light blinded him momentarily. The noise of machinery hummed through him; the way it enveloped him and throbbed painfully on his eardrums was like diving into deep water. Despite the discomfort, he stepped inside, unable to resist the lure of technology. Electricity meant machines, and machines could mean computers. And with computers, the possibility of a ship or the ability to make one became very real.

Even as he exchanged a wide-eyed look of wild hope with Virdon, the noise intensity began to rise. It quickly passed uncomfortable into painful, as the almost subliminal rumble became a high pitched squeal, then started cycling like a klaxon. He covered his ears, shouted his friends' names, and watched their lips move as they called his name in return. They doubled over in pain, and the edges of his vision began to gray.

“Pete!” The buzzing sound ceased abruptly, so completely that he though perhaps he'd gone deaf. But then someone called his name again. “Pete! Wake up!”

He jarred awake, his arms flailing aimlessly to be caught and held by his companion. He jerked upright, his lungs heaving, wildly searching for the source of danger, then flopped back onto the bed. The pillow and sheets felt damp beneath his back and neck. Allison still held his wrists, her tousled blonde hair brushing across his chest.

“You're okay. You're safe. You're home,” she crooned. She released his arms and cupped his face, rubbing soothing circles over his temples. “That was some nightmare. Urko?”

He'd had many nightmares in the first couple of weeks after they'd started sharing a bed on an almost nightly basis. In the last month, they had faded in intensity and frequency. While they usually featured the big gorilla general and sometimes other apes like the sadistic Wanda, this one was different. But the details were already fading from his memory.

He took a deep breath and blew it out, willing his racing pulse to slow. He raised his trembling hands to caress her shoulders in reassurance. “Sorry.” He shook his head to clear away the last of the panic. “I don't remember.”

She searched his face, looking for lingering traces of the terror that had wrenched them both from sleep. “You sure you're okay?” Concern creased her forehead.

He flashed a quick smirk, knowing it was a half-hearted. “Yeah, I'm fine.” His hands wandered south, brushing her breast, and the grin spread, now more genuine. “Feeling better by the minute, in fact. But there's always room for improvement.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

When she slapped playfully at his hands, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tighter as he closed his eyes and made pleased humming noises.

His companion shook with mirth. “Pete. I need to get up and go to work,” Allison reminded him, even as she dropped soft kisses on his collarbone every few words. “Maybe you get to lie around being a man of leisure, but some of us have to earn a living.”

He peeled open on eye, then swooped in to capture her lips, running his hand down her spine and raising gooseflesh on her skin. When he broke the kiss, he brushed her hair back from her face. “Not today. I promised Galen I’d take him shopping again. He wants to get some new clothes for the warmer weather.”

Allison smiled as she pushed herself off him and sat on the edge of the bed. “More new clothes?” she chuckled.

“Yeah, who knew apes could be such clothes horses?” Burke reached over to retrieve his cell phone from the bedside table. “Do you know he even has shoe designers falling over themselves making custom shoes for those big monkey feet of his? When he finally moves off the base, he’s going to need a three bedroom place. One for him, one for his clothes, and one for his shoes.”

As Allison padded into the bathroom, Burke admired the view before scrolling through his short list of contacts to find Galen’s number. He tapped the screen to begin the call as the sound of running water and a cloud of steam came from the bathroom. He listened to the phone ring on the other end, then switch over to voice mail.

“Hello!” Galen’s excited voice exclaimed. He could hear his own voice in the background urging Galen to say something more, to state his name. “Oh, this is Galen. If you are getting this recording—isn’t it marvelous?—then I suppose that means I’m too busy to answer this telephone. But when it beeps at you in a moment, you can record a message of your own, and I will listen to it. Oh, and I’ll return your call.”

Burke was still smiling when the promised beep came. “Hey Galen, it’s Pete. I just wanted to make sure we were still on for our shopping trip today. I’ll be over there around,” he peered at the bedside clock to check the time, “ten. Lunch is your treat this time!” He closed the call, and deposited the phone back on the table. With an impish grin, he made his way on quiet feet into the bathroom. As he pulling back the curtain to the shower, denser steam rolled through the small space. He stepped into the tub and pressed up against Allison’s wet, slippery back. He was going to do his very best to make her late for work.

******

Burke whistled as his long legs ate up the sidewalk from his car to the front door of the Langley facility. He pulled open the heavy glass door to a blast of cool air that felt wonderful after the brief walk in the building heat of the morning. He didn’t remember June being quite so hot in the DC area, but the air held a promise of scorching temperatures by midday.

He flashed his military ID card at the guard and was waved through to the elevator. He’d tried to call Galen again from the car on the drive over and once again got voice mail. He hoped the chimp hadn’t forgotten in the week since they’d last talked. He was waiting for the elevator when a man in a dark business suit jogged up to him.

“Major Burke.”

Burke took a step back and turned to face the agent. He didn’t need to see the man’s ID to know he was a spook; the nondescript, attention-deflecting dark suit was like a uniform with these people. “Yes?”

“I have a message for you from Galen.” The man’s expression was unreadable.

“What is it?”

“He’s feeling under the weather and doesn’t want to be disturbed.”

Burke pursed his lips. Galen was sick? “I just tried to call him a few minutes ago and he didn’t answer. Is it serious?” He remembered from his training that without the immunity present in the general population of a new place, even the most innocuous diseases could be deadly. It had been one of his and Virdon’s biggest concerns—that either they would expose the humans of the future to a deadly virus they carried, or they would catch something themselves.

“No, sir, nothing serious. Perhaps he was resting and didn’t hear the phone.”

Burke reached forward to push the button again to summon the elevator, which had mysteriously gone dark. The agent grabbed his arm, and his voice dropped into a dangerous register. “He asked not to be disturbed, Major.”

Before Burke could shake off the agent’s grip, the elevator he’d summoned arrived with a ding, and the door began to slide open. Except behind it wasn’t an elevator car.

The space behind the doors opened into a larger room, poorly lit, that had a crowd in dark business suits. From the middle of the knot, he caught glimpses of a form prone on a table. A scream echoed off the walls of the chamber as a hairy hand thrust through the press of bodies, the fingers opening and closing convulsively.

“Galen!” Burke shouted. He tried to rush the door, only to be blocked by the agent. The men and women surrounding the chimpanzee turned to look at him with surprised looks. One of them moved out of sight, and the elevator door slid closed.

Burke struggled to push past the agent, who spun him around and slammed him into the wall next to the elevator bank. A strong forearm pressed against his throat. He lashed out with fists and feet, knocking the agent backward. The guards from the front reception area were running toward the scuffle. He had to get out of there, or he wasn’t going to be able to help Galen.

He began running, dodging around the first guard like he was shaking off a tackle. The second had better reflexes and got a hand on his arm. Burke punched the man in the throat; he went down hard, gasping and coughing. Continuing across the lobby, Burke heard footfalls behind him. A quick glance confirmed more agents coming from the elevator that wasn’t an elevator.

He hit the bar across the glass door and pushed hard, escaping into the heat. Retracing his steps from just a few minutes ago, he jumped over the door of his convertible and slammed the fob into the ignition as he slid into the seat. The engine roared to life and the tires squealed as he drove away.

******

_“Sir, we have a situation.” The voice was panicky._

_“What?”_

_“It's Burke. He's suspicious. I did predict that pushing the program too fast could wreck the whole thing.”_

_“We need that information from the ape. Plans have been set in motion. Time is of the essence.” Strident impatience._

_“I understand, sir, but now Burke is rejecting the reality of the program.”_

_“Damn.” Pause. “Neutralize him. Keep him within the construct, but isolate him from the other two.”_

_“Yes, sir.”_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**   
_The merit of all things lies in their difficulty._

  
Burke eased his car along the curb outside Virdon’s house, the place that he and Sally rented until they decided to return to Houston. Chris Virdon had brought his wife and children from Texas to Virginia as well after that initial meeting, so they could spend time with his father.   
  
He had already driven up and down the street a couple of times, to make sure he had not been followed and that no one was watching the house. He knew it was a risk to come here, but he wasn’t sure who else he could talk to. Hopefully the news of what had happened at the base hadn't reached Virdon yet.  
  
After parking a couple houses away on the other side of the street, Burke exited the car and leaned back against it for a few minutes to get his nerves under control. Something was rotten in Langley. He looked up and down the street one last time before letting his long legs carry him quickly to Virdon’s walk and up to the front door. He rang the doorbell, then hooked the aviator sunglasses off his face before taking another look around behind him.  
  
Sally opened the door, a smile lighting her face as soon as she saw him. “Pete! Come on in.”  
  
Burke hoped that the welcome was a good sign. He quickly stepped over the threshold, tucking his sunglasses in his shirt pocket. “Thanks, Sal. Is Alan around?”  
  
“Yeah, he’s in the office, reading Wikipedia.” She waved him down the hallway toward the back of the house.  
  
He found Virdon leaning intently toward a laptop computer. He knocked on the door frame to get his attention. “Busy, Alan?” he asked when Virdon looked up.  
  
“Hey, Pete!” The desk chair squeaked as he leaned back. He pointed toward an upholstered chair. “Not really. Just catching up on a few things.”  
  
Burke settled on the edge of the seat, his hands folded between his knees. “Have, uh, have you been to see Galen lately?”  
  
Virdon's mouth quirked, and he shook his head. “Not for a week or so, why?”  
  
“I was just over at Langley. I tried to see him and was told that he was refusing any visitors.” He wasn’t sure how much more he should say about what he'd seen. Surrounded by the normalcy of Virdon's den, he began to wonder if he'd really seen what he thought he'd seen. It all sounded so far-fetched now. Like something out of a spy novel.  
  
“Maybe he's just tired out from all his public appearances.”  
  
“No, something is wrong, Alan.” That much, he was sure of. “He hasn't _had_ any appearances in the last week. And that's not all. I think... I think I'm under surveillance. Everwhere I go, it seems like there are people watching me, following me.”  
  
“Of course there are people watching you, Pete. It's called being famous.” He cocked an eyebrow. “I would have thought you'd like that.”  
  
“I'm not talking about fans, Alan. I'm talking about people who are sticking to the shadows. People who duck into doorways or suddenly take off whenever I turn to look at them. People from the government.”  
  
“Why would anyone do that, Pete?”  
  
“I don't know, Alan, but we did just return from the future with a talking ape with knowledge of the destruction of mankind.” His tone turned bitter. “Why would anyone want to keep an eye on us?”  
  
Something suddenly started chirping. Virdon held up a hand and pulled a cell phone out of his shirt pocket. He looked at the screen, a frown crossing his face for a quick moment before being banished. “Hang on, it's Chris. Be right back.”  
  
He left the office, closing the door behind him. Burke glanced at the computer screen, then leaned over more closely when the title of the article caught his eye. _Missing Astronauts Return Home._ An article about their landing back on earth. He scanned the first few paragraphs, confusion creasing his brow. A few moments later, Virdon returned.  
  
“Sorry 'bout that. Trying to plan an outing with the grandkids. I've got grandkids, Pete, can you believe it?” He leaned against the door frame. “Anyway, you do realize how paranoid all this sounds, don't you?”  
  
“Paranoid? Your own daughter is a spook for some government agency that she can't even name, and you think I'm being paranoid?”  
  
Virdon's expression darkened at the mention of Allison. “So why don't you ask her about it?”  
  
Burke frowned. “Because I don't trust her. I want to, but I just don’t right now. Not about this.” He stood. “But you are going to have to trust me, Alan. I'm not being paranoid. And I'm worried about Galen.”  
  
Virdon turned to look down the hallway toward the front door, and a chill began crawling up Burke's back. He pushed himself out of the chair. “What's going on?” he asked, growing angry.  
  
“Look, Pete,” Virdon said, putting out his hands in a placating gesture but blocking the door so Burke couldn’t bolt, “I think you've got a problem. You need help.”  
  
“What did you do, Alan?”  
  
Before Virdon could answer, he stepped out of the doorway, which was suddenly filled by two men wearing nondescript black suits. Each pointed a taser at Burke.  
  
“Major, we are here to take you into custody.”  
  
Burke looked between the two agents at Virdon. “Thanks, pal. Thanks a bunch.”  
  
“I'm sorry, Pete, they told me what you did. I didn't know what else to do.”  
  
One of the agents holstered his gun and produced a set of handcuffs. He sidled up beside Burke, careful not to get between his target and his partner's weapon, and pushed him around to cuff his hands together.  
  
“Is that necessary?” Virdon demanded.  
  
“Yes, Colonel, it is. Thank you for your cooperation. We'll take it from here.”  
  
“Where are you taking him?”  
  
The nameless agents pushed Burke out of the office, past Virdon. “Back to Langley. He'll be questioned and evaluated. We want to help him, Colonel. That's all. But right now, he's a danger.”  
  
Virdon followed them to the living room. As Burke was marched out the door, he tossed a final question to Virdon over his shoulder. “How did we get home, Alan? Do you remember _how we got home_?”  
  
Sally rushed to her husband's side, and buried her face in his shoulder.  
  
“What's going on, Alan?”  
  
“I'm not sure, Sally. Pete's talking crazy, and he hurt some people back at the base.” His shoulders slumped in defeat. “I don't understand. I just don't understand.”

 

******

  
Burke struggled to lift his head off the padded floor and focus on the door to the cell when the knob rattled. Whatever they'd used to sedate him was still in his system. He tried to push himself up off his side, but with his arms entangled by the straitjacket, he couldn't get the leverage to sit up.  
  
Allison's face swam into view. Her mouth moved, but the sounds were disjointed, nonsensical. She grabbed his chin, her touch soft despite the two days growth of beard that scratched beneath it. “Pete. Pete!”  
  
He blinked slowly. That was his name. She was calling his name.  
  
“Allison,” he slurred.  
  
She grabbed him by the shoulders of the jacket and hauled him upright, propping him against the padded wall.  
  
“Pete,” she said again, crouching down so she was on his level. He seemed to respond better to tactile stimulation, so she kept a hand cupping his neck.  
  
“S'not right, Allison. Nothing here is right.” He'd had a lot of time to think about it, about all the little things that he couldn't quite put a finger on, like trying to make out the details of a picture just slightly out of focus. He didn't understand how Alan couldn't see that this place was horribly screwed up.   
  
But he could guess. Virdon's family was here. Maybe not the family he had left, but they were here, alive, and that was more than he'd had to hold onto for the last two years. Facing that this family —this world—wasn't right was more than Virdon could handle. He could forgive his friend's betrayal.  
  
“Galen... they did something to Galen.” He leaned back and closed his eyes. The room was starting to spin. Something was happening with Galen. He couldn't quite pin down what was wrong, but he did know that _something_ terrible was happening.  
  
“Pete, Galen is fine. Alan says you came to their house, talking crazy about being watched. And that was after you assaulted a marine at the base. What the hell happened to you?”  
  
He opened his eyes and looked deeply into Allison's green ones. “I'm _not_ crazy.”  
  
Aallison stroked his cheek, her expression a riot of different emotions. She scanned his face, then leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. When she pulled back, she looked furtively toward the door. “Oh, Pete. I am going to get myself into so much trouble over you. But I can't do this anymore. I... I really do love you, you idiot.” Having made a decision, she moved to his side, reaching behind him for the buckles that held his arms restrained. “And you aren't crazy. I'm going to get you out of here, and then we are going to have a long, long talk about what's really going on. I'm not sure how far I can go with this, but I'll do what I can.”  
  
Burke tried to comprehend while she finished undoing the straps. Once the back was loose, she pulled the jacket off him, freeing his arms. Then she took a microinjector out of her pocket and pressed it to his wrist. “This will counteract the sedative.”  
  
The stimulant hit him almost immediately, clearing his head. He shook it to chase away the last of the cobwebs. Allison pulled open his eyelids and looked at the state of his pupils, felt at his wrist to check his pulse. When she was satisfied that he had responded to the counteragent, she stood and helped pull him to his feet.  
  
“We are going to have to hurry. Once my superiors realize what I've done, this place is going to be flooded with hostiles. We've got a narrow window. Are you ready to move?”  
  
Burke scrubbed a hand over his face to bring himself fully alert. “I don't know what the hell is going on, but yeah, I'm ready to get out of here.” He grabbed her wrist. “Hey. Can I really trust you?”  
  
“Yeah. I'm so, so sorry, Pete, for getting you into this in the first place. I _will_ explain more, but we have to go. Now.” She pulled from his grasp then reached behind her back to retrieve her gun. She pressed her palm against the biometric lock and the door opened with a click. After peering through a narrow opening, she yanked the door wider and stepped into the hallway, her gun sweeping back and forth. When she saw no one in sight, she motioned for Burke to follow her.   
  
They hurried through a maze of dimly lit corridors, but encountered no resistance. The final turn brought them in sight of an elevator. Allison started toward it. Burke grabbed her shoulder, about to ask if they should find some stairs instead.  
  
With a ding, the elevator door slid open. The barrel of a gun appeared in the crack as soon as it was wide enough. When the agent inside spotted them through the gap, he opened fire. Allison was already returning the volley. She pulled the trigger rapidly, striding forward as she did so, seemingly fearless of the bullets flying around her. The agent flew backward as three bullets slammed into his chest, his gun clattering to the floor as he crumpled. The door closed on the agent’s limp foot and rebounded open again.  
  
Allison nervously jerked her gun back and forth, looking for more targets. “Let’s go, Pete,” she said. When she got no answer, she turned around.  
  
Burke lay sprawled on the floor, a crimson stain spreading out from the center of his chest. A puddle of blood grew beneath him. His eyes were open, fixed on the ceiling.  
  
Allison’s gun dropped to her side. “Damn it!”

 

******

  
Burke woke, coughing and sputtering, still reeling from the bullet that pierced his chest and buried itself in his heart. He gasped as new sensations—those surrounding his real body and not the construct that had been created in his mind—flooded through him. The chair that supported him in a reclined position was padded, and something heavy covered his head. He reached up with shaking hands to feel the spherical helmet. He pulled on it, felt an answering tug on the skin of his scalp, then tossed it to the ground. Taking a few more deep breaths, he pushed himself up on his elbows to look around. A wave of bone-weary exhaustion washed over him.   
  
A movement to his right drew his attention. The figure stirring turned toward him. “Pete? Are you okay?”  
  
The voice was Allison’s. But the twisted body occupying the chair was barely recognizable as human.  
  
“Allison?” He pushed himself out of his chair, noticed Virdon and Galen still in chairs like his, their heads still covered by helmets, as he stumbled toward her. The clear emerald eyes were the only thing that remained the same. In place of her flowing blonde hair, a white hood covered her head, part of the jumpsuit she wore. Her face drooped on one side, and one hand was curled up into a claw. Both legs bent at impossible angles, her hips raised off the bed on one side. Burke leaned over her when she struggled to raise herself, searching her face for the woman he had known inside the program.  
  
The side of her mouth that didn’t droop quirked upward. “Not exactly what you were expecting, I know.”  
  
“What... what happened?” he asked softly, his voice confused.  
  
“My people have lived in the radioactive wastes for too long. We are all afflicted. And vulnerable to an attack by the apes. We needed to find out more about them. So they used our virtual reality program to trick you.”  
  
Burke’s lips pressed into a thin line, but his voice remained melancholy. “You could have just asked.”  
  
She shook her head. “Years of isolation have made us distrustful.”  She winced as she pushed herself up again. “Please, we have little time. You have to get Alan and Galen out of the program and then escape the complex. My people will not be... kind if they reacquire you.”  
  
He trotted over to the other chairs. “How?”  
  
“Just remove their helmets. They will be disoriented at first,” she warned.  
  
Burke pulled the helmet off Virdon, then quickly turned to do the same to Galen. Virdon's reaction was much as his had been — a gasp, a startled jerk.  
  
“What the hell!” he exclaimed as he sat up, looking around in confusion.  
  
But Burke was busy focused on Galen, whose reaction was more extreme. Galen's eyes popped open and he screamed, a blood-curdling shriek full of pain and anguish. The sound cut off abruptly, leaving the chimp panting, his entire body trembling.  
  
Burke seized Galen's shoulders, hoping to ground him, convinced that his worst fears for what was happening to Galen were correct. “It's okay, Galen! It wasn't real! You're safe now!”   
  
Galen clutched at Burke's shirt, his eyes shifting back and forth as he tried to understand where he was. “Not real?”  
  
Looking over at Virdon, Burke repeated. “It wasn't real. It was an illusion created by a computer to look real. _This_ ,” he squeezed Galen's shoulders, “this _is_ real. I'm sorry, Alan; it wasn't real.”  
  
Virdon pushed himself out of the chair, catching himself as his knees almost folded. “My family—”  
  
“A simulation, Alan,” a quiet voice said from across the room.  
  
Virdon's head snapped up and swiveled in that direction, the blood draining from his face. He stumbled toward her. “Allison?”  
  
Her questing fingers finally found the controls on the arm of the chair. At the push of a button and the whir of a motor, the chair raised her head until her face was level with Virdon’s. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I was sent in to get information from you. I wasn’t supposed to come to care for all of you.” Her eyes flicked off Virdon and over to Burke. “I wasn’t supposed to fall in love.”  
  
“So we’ve been here for months?” Virdon asked, rubbing the hint of roughness on his cheeks and chin.  
  
“No, time is different inside the program. What seemed like months inside was only a couple of days in real time.” She glanced toward the door, her eyes glazing over for a moment before she spoke again. “Please, I wish I could explain more, but they are coming. You have to leave. You have to go now!”  
  
Burke left a rapidly steadying Galen to return to her side. “Come with us. You can’t stay here.” When she shook her head curtly, he pressed her, his voice growing urgent. “What will your people do to you when they find out you’ve helped us escape?”  
  
“I’ll slow you down. I can’t... I can’t move on my own.”  
  
Burke slipped one arm under her legs, the other behind her shoulders. “I can carry you.” His gaze was an open question.  
  
“I—“ She considered for a moment, her brow creasing, but not with pain or discomfort. “All right.” She hooked her arms around his neck as best she could. He gently lifted her off the couch; she weighed even less than he imagined she would.  
  
Virdon put his hand on her arm. “My family—,” he began again. “Was... was any of it true? Sally, Chris... do you know what happened to them? Did I really have a daughter I never knew about?”  
  
Allison’s voice dropped into a husky whisper. “I don’t know, Alan. We pulled the memories from your head, and the computer extrapolated from there. I don’t have any real information about your family.” A tear trickled down one cheek. “I’m so sorry.”  
  
Virdon’s face crumbled, and he stumbled backward to be caught by Galen, in an eerie replay of leaning on Chris as he learned of his daughter. But that had happened inside the simulation. It wasn’t real.  
  
It wasn’t real.

 

******

  
Allison led them through the corridors of the complex, showing them the fastest way back to the cave that they had stumbled into, the cave that had haunted Burke’s dreams. At times she would lose focus, drift briefly into a fugue state, then warn the fugitives of the movements of the soldiers who would recapture them.   
  
They entered the room where they had been overcome by the light and noise, where they had first come into contact with Allison’s people.  
  
“I remember this place,” Virdon said, his voice full of wonder and confusion.  
  
“I do as well,” Galen added. “There was a loud noise, it hurt my head.”  
  
They moved through the bright, sterile space quickly, not wanting to get caught in the same trap again. Through a thick metal hatch, they left the complex and found themselves in a dirt-floored cave. Virdon pushed the door closed and turned the hand wheel to lock the bulkhead behind them. He strained at the rusty mechanism, but couldn’t get it to move. Galen joined him; their joint effort forced the wheel to turn with a metallic squeal. When he turned back to look at the cave, Burke knelt over Allison’s body resting on the floor, propped up by his arms.  
  
“Allison, what’s the matter,” Burke asked urgently. Her chest heaved with the effort of breathing, her face pallid, her lips turning blue.  
  
“The machine,” she gasped, “was keeping... me alive.”  
  
Burke’s face drained of blood. “What!”  
  
“It’s... okay... Pete. Never would... have made it... without me.” She took one last gasp, then her head lolled to one side.  
  
Galen and Virdon knelt on her other side. Virdon reached out to stroke her cheek.  
  
Galen spoke in a quiet voice. “She sacrificed herself for us?”  
  
“Yeah,” Burke croaked, his voice wrecked. “Yeah, she did.” He looked up at Virdon, whose eyes were as watery as his own. “She may not have been your real daughter, Alan, but in the end, I think she loved you like one. Loved us both."

[ ](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/tarlanx/6659521/540661/540661_original.jpg)


End file.
